


Words Left Unspoken

by firefly124



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death Fix, Deathly Hallows Fix, Fix-It, M/M, Post - Deathly Hallows, Snupin Santa Fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-06
Updated: 2011-06-06
Packaged: 2017-10-20 04:55:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/208961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefly124/pseuds/firefly124
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How many times can a man lose almost everything and move on?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words Left Unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Snupin Santa 2008 for [leakywitch](http://leakywitch.insanejournal.com). Huge thanks to my beta, [ubiquirk](http://ubiquirk.livejournal.com), and Brit-picker, [Saracen77](http://saracen77.livejournal.com).

Remus knew he was dreaming, but somehow that didn’t make it any less real. It never did.

This time it was a few stolen moments after an Order meeting. Words were beside the point as they devoured each others’ mouths, then ducked into a room, barely getting the Locking and Silencing Spells up before tearing clothes out of the way. The tight, welcoming warmth of thrusting home, the climax more desperate relief than joy, the words bitten back lest they spoil it all.

He woke, as he always did, to sticky sheets and tears running down his cheeks. Remus grabbed his wand and cast a Cleansing Charm on himself, disgusted. It was normal enough to have such dreams, but surely there was something perverse about lusting after the dead. And if he had to dream of dead lovers, shouldn’t at least some of those dreams feature his wife?

Pointless as he knew it to be, Remus rolled over and tried to get back to sleep.

* * *

 _“I’m sorry. I tried to make her stay back,” Harry said._

 _Remus shook his head. Even so soon after giving birth, there was no way anyone could have kept her from the battle, not even Harry. Not even Teddy. It was one of the things he loved about her. And one of the things he hated._

 _“Who else?”_

 _“Remus …”_

 _“I need to know.”_

 _“We lost you, too,” Harry snapped. “At least for a minute. Don’t ask me how I know, but I do. You were dead, at least for a little bit. There’s … there’s no other explanation.” He took a shuddering breath. “Can’t I just enjoy having you back for a bit first?”_

 _Too weak to argue, Remus subsided._

* * *

Grimacing, he swallowed the steaming goblet of Wolfsbane as quickly as he could.

“Last dose of the month,” the mediwitch said cheerfully. “Now, you’re sure you’ve somewhere secure to stay?”

He nodded. Harry’d vouched that Remus would be contained at Grimmauld on the forms required for the St. Mungo’s dispensary, but he knew Remus would be safe where he actually planned to go, even if he didn’t quite understand it.

* * *

 _The headstone was cold under his fingertips as he traced out her name._

 _“I’m sorry, Remus.”_

 _“It’s not your fault, Harry.” He set down the roses he’d brought. Somehow they looked foolish, not at all the romantic remembrance he’d intended. What was the point of giving her roses now?_

 _At least they’d had what little time fate had allowed. But, he wondered, would she still be alive if it hadn’t been for him? If he’d remained strong and encouraged her to find someone who could love her with his whole heart? If he hadn’t doubted? If she hadn’t been still recovering, both physically and magically, from the exertions of childbirth?_

 _No, he couldn’t think that. He couldn’t regret Teddy’s existence. Teddy was the one thing he had left to live for._

 _Walking a bit further, they came to another headstone, this one of black marble. Few flowers were there, but most likely the deceased would prefer it that way._

 _“We never found his body,” Harry admitted. “But it didn’t seem right not to have a marker.”_

 _Remus nodded as he knelt before this stone as well._

 _He should have believed, should have known. Severus was too damned convincing for his own good._

 _Remus couldn’t bring himself to go over to the white tomb. Let Harry think what he liked about why._

 _“Are you sure you won’t stay at Grimmauld tomorrow night?”_

 _“This is just something I need to do.” Remus sighed. “If you’re worried about the dispensary—”_

 _“No! They don’t have the manpower to check up on every werewolf on their lists, and they won’t bother with you. ‘Sides, I know you’re safe when you’ve had the potion.” Harry shrugged. “I just don’t understand why you need to come back here.”_

 _And Remus couldn’t explain, even if Harry could have understood._

* * *

Moony clambered to his feet, shaking off the aches of the change. It was strange having his man-mind in control in this place.

He didn’t want to go into that room. The horror of it repelled him even as both instinct and his man-mind told him this was why he was here. After several false starts and impatient whufs at himself, he finally went in, walking directly to the large dark spot on the floor.

The scent was nearly a month old, but it was strong.

Mate.

Blood.

Poison.

Death.

Sitting back on his haunches, he howled bitterly.

* * *

 _Running through the Forbidden Forest, he and Padfood and Prongs jostled each other playfully while Wormtail scurried about just out of reach of the larger animals._

 _Moony stopped, sniffing the air, then turned and loped over to a patch of trees. There was man-scent there, but it wasn’t that fresh, and it wasn’t quite prey. He whined, confused, as he sniffed about the damaged vines at the base of one tree, where the scent became stronger and mingled with blood._

 _Padfoot had smelled it, too, and nipped Moony’s haunch before running a bit in the wrong direction, yipping playfully._

 _Moony growled and turned to follow the trail of the not-prey, only to be herded back by Prongs’ antlers. The two infuriating animals kept at him until he’d lost the scent entirely, and he spent the rest of the night sulking while they tried to goad him into joining their stupid games._

* * *

“Ow!” Remus pulled his hand back sharply and shook the sting from it. “No biting, Teddy!”

The baby’s normally vivid turquoise hair darkened to a dull cerulean, and Remus hastily Summoned a more appropriate toy to chomp on before tears ensued.

No one was entirely sure the effects of biting a werewolf. More to the point, no one had ever discovered—or documented it if they had—the effects of a non-werewolf biting and drawing the blood of a werewolf, and Remus wasn’t about to let his son become the test case.

Remus gathered Teddy’s things into his baby bag, slung it over his shoulder, and picked the boy up.

“We’re off to visit Grandmum. Isn’t that nice?”

Teddy grabbed onto Remus’ thumb and tried to direct it towards his mouth again. Between staying with Harry during the full moons and visiting Andromeda at the weekends, Teddy clearly wasn’t overly excited by going visiting, especially with new and emerging teeth to focus on.

“Keep that up, and I’ll have to get myself some dragonhide gloves.” Remus extracted his hand and Apparated them both to Andromeda’s.

* * *

 _Carefully, Remus stepped out of the passageway, squeezing past the statue of the humpbacked witch that guarded it, something he’d done far more easily twenty or so years ago. Carefully checking his newer version of the Marauders’ Map, he made his way to the dungeons without being seen._

 _The door opened at once to his coded knock, and Severus looked up from his cauldron, the intensity in his eyes belying the coolness of his greeting nod. Setting aside his dragonhide gloves, Severus Summoned a goblet and decanted today’s dose of Wolfsbane._

 _“Did you manage to avoid your shadow?”_

 _Remus rolled his eyes as he accepted the goblet. “She was patrolling the other end of the castle when I arrived.”_

 _Severus raised an eyebrow but didn’t bother to ask how Remus knew this. “Why do you not put the child out of her misery? I hardly expected you to show such a cruel streak. Typically, that is my domain.”_

 _Remus snorted, glad he hadn’t started to drink the potion yet. “You won’t let me tell her about us, though if you keep mocking her the way you’ve been, she’s going to catch on. If I simply tell her there’s a man in my life, she’ll badger me for your identity. And if I tell her I prefer men, which is only partly true, she’ll start trying to set me up with someone. I’m hoping she’ll just give up and move on. What would you have me do?”_

 _Severus shrugged. “Greet me properly before drinking that foul-tasting brew.”_

 _Remus grinned and gulped it all down, hardly registering the rancid flavor, then set the goblet aside._

 _Severus took a step back, and Remus stalked towards him until he was backed up against the wall._

 _Grabbing Severus’ wrists, Remus pinned them over his head as he claimed Severus’ mouth, lips grinding and tongues tangling. A thrill of triumph ran through him as a small moan escaped Severus’ throat, and he pulled back to suggest they move this to somewhere a bit more comfortable._

 _The haunted look that flashed in Severus’ eyes stopped him before he said a word._

 _“Perhaps it is as well that you do not burn your bridges with Nymphadora,” Severus whispered._

 _Remus released his wrists and took a step back. “What are you saying?”_

 _“Merely that it is wise to have a contingency plan.” His eyes took on the studied blankness that Remus associated with preparations for a meeting with Voldemort. As if in confirmation, Severus added, “I must go.”_

 _“I don’t need or want a ‘contingency plan,’” Remus replied. “Be careful.”_

 _“I always am.”_

* * *

There was something soothing about a Muggle bookstore, something Remus never found in Flourish and Blotts. He’d already selected several books of stories to read Teddy. Now he was in search of something for himself, though he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted other than something with slightly longer sentences and a more complex plot than _How Jason’s Puppy Played on the Farm_.

Somewhere along the third row of the fiction section, just about where the impossible vampire romances shifted to outlandish space operas, he caught a scent that made him freeze in his tracks, questioning his sanity. Carefully, nonchalantly, he forced himself to walk to the end of the shelves and look down the next row and the next.

His eyes confirmed what his nose already knew. There, in the middle of the scientific periodicals, was Severus. He wore a nearly threadbare suit and leaned on a simple wooden cane, and the scratchiness of his voice as he asked the assistant when the next shipment was due to arrive only confirmed that it had to be him, for all that it couldn’t be. If Remus were hallucinating, surely his imagination would have left Severus’ lovely throat and voice undamaged, wouldn’t it?

Then again, so far as anyone could work out, Remus shouldn’t exactly be standing here either.

Severus turned and looked at him. Recognition and pain flashed across his features so subtly that Remus doubted anyone else could have discerned them.

Unable to find his own voice just yet, Remus followed him to the counter to pay for his purchases and then out onto the pavement.

“Severus, wait!”

He didn’t stop.

Remus caught him up and stepped in front of him. “Please.”

“Go home to your wife.” Severus glared at him. “Leave me in peace.”

“I can’t. She’s dead.” Remus swallowed. “I thought you were too.”

“You were meant to.” Severus moved to step around him.

“Tea!” Remus stepped to the side as well, blocking his escape. “Just … come to my flat for a cuppa. Please?”

“I can hardly show my face in whatever corner of our world you’ve chosen to take up residence.”

“I’ll Apparate us there.”

Severus glared at him. “Step aside. You are making a scene.”

Spotting an alley nearby, Remus did just that, gesturing for Severus to follow.

Surprisingly enough, he did.

Remus tried desperately not to remember any of his recurrent dreams as he put his arms around Severus and Apparated them into his kitchen.

Awkward silence reigned while he made the tea. Only when he’d served it and had a sip did he finally ask, “How?”

“I believe in planning for all contingencies,” Severus replied with a shrug. “I thought you had finally come to accept that view.”

“I’m sorry.” Remus looked down at the table. “I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

“You were meant to,” Severus repeated.

There was a wistful note that belied Severus’ words.

“I still shouldn’t have.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Silence. Clearly, that was all the answer he was going to get.

“You could come back,” Remus said at last. “Harry’s had your name cleared. He’s even commissioned someone to paint a portrait to hang in the Headmistress’ office.”

A snort. “Sentimental fool.”

Remus shrugged.

Severus toyed with a biscuit. “What reason could I possibly have to wish to return?”

Anyone else would have heard that as a dismissal. Remus took it as an invitation, leaning across to press his lips against Severus’.

For a moment, he didn’t respond, and Remus told his sinking heart that at least he’d had a chance to say goodbye properly.

Then Severus’ lips parted.

Relieved and filled with a hunger that settled far lower than his stomach, Remus buried his hands in Severus’ hair as he relearned the contours of his mouth.

Swallowing a needy moan, Remus tugged at Severus’ arms until he stood, and they made their way to the bedroom, Remus guiding and supporting Severus as they went.

Clothes were torn aside, and Remus fleetingly wondered whether he should repair them before Severus left or not repair them so he couldn’t leave. Then far more important matters consumed him as his fingers, lips, and tongue mapped Severus’ body, its new scars and its familiar sharp contours, while Severus did the same. And then he was thrusting home into Severus’ tight, welcoming warmth, stroking him in a counterpoint rhythm and watching ravenously as Severus writhed and came undone, milking Remus’ own climax from him.

He collapsed onto the bed beside Severus with a wordless moan. Despite the early hour, his eyes were heavy, and before long he lost the fight to keep them open.

* * *

 _“I suppose you’re happy now,” Remus said bitterly as he set down his empty whisky glass. The whole world, it seemed, was celebrating, something Severus had more reason than most to do._

 _Even through his own pain, however, he couldn’t help seeing the misery pouring off Severus in waves as he tossed back his own Firewhisky and gestured for Tom to pour them both another round._

 _“I will certainly not mourn the loss of Potter or Pettigrew, and Black should have been in Azkaban years ago.”_

 _Remus shuddered at that reminder. Lily, James, and Peter were only Sirius’ most recent victims, after all. Severus had merely been lucky._

 _Jealousy flared as he realized who Severus hadn’t named._

 _“And Lily?”_

 _The vicious glare confirmed what Remus should have known. Whatever his own feelings, clearly Severus would never be his, could never have been his._

 _How, then, they had ended up in one of the Leaky’s rooms was a bit beyond his alcohol-hazed brain, though he was determined to remember every moment once they’d got there. He’d dreamed of this for far too long to let it slip away._

 _Somehow, his dreams had never included stumbling over a chair and falling onto the bed in a heap or getting his fingers tangled in Severus’ robes, though tearing them off was certainly satisfying. And in his fantasies, they never had the awkward moment of trying to figure out who was going to do what exactly, though Severus resolved that quickly enough._

 _“Just fuck me already, Lupin!”_

 _And then he was sliding home at last, pouring himself into Severus’ body, then greedily sucking Severus off in turn. Remus thought he’d never felt so alive._

 _Until Severus got up, Summoned his clothes, and started getting dressed._

 _There were a thousand questions Remus wanted to ask as he gathered his own clothes, high on the list being whether this could ever happen again. He didn’t dare._

 _“Dumbledore is having some sort of meeting tomorrow,” he managed to say. It sounded stupid even as his words hit the air. Snape was working at Hogwarts now, and Remus was almost certain he was the source of some of the inside information they’d received on the Death Eaters. Of course he’d know. But would he be there?_

 _A scowl and a slammed door were the only answers he got._

* * *

Hours later, Remus woke, as he often did, to sticky sheets and tears in his eyes.

Severus had gone, the only evidence that it hadn’t been yet another dream the scattered clothing on the floor. At that, Remus almost convinced himself that he’d simply been so tired he’d failed to put the clothes in the wash basket when he found the slip of parchment on the bedside table.

Remus picked it up and read it, a faint smile stealing across his face as he did.

In familiar, spiky script, it gave an address in Muggle London. Beneath, a single sentence:

“You make a convincing argument.”

 _Fin_


End file.
